The Beginning
by smileywritergirl
Summary: 15-year-old Emma is in New York, alone and untrusting... Until she meets a certain blue-eyed 15-year-old from England who takes a special interest in her. This is the story of how Killian and Emma first met as teenagers in New York City. CS AU.
1. Chapter 1 - Welcome to NY

_"Where would you like to start?"_

 _"At the beginning."_

"How old are you?" I look up at the man staring down at me. I briefly observe him. He looks…25? Maybe 30. Messy mousey-colored hair, stubble as if he hasn't shaved in a while. He's wearing a heavy jacket, with a generic black sweatshirt underneath, stained with what looks like ketchup. When I don't respond, he asks starts speaking again. "I've seen you around here the last few nights. Some night workers too. Did you come in on a train?" He has a slight accent, an upstate accent. Not a New York City one. "My name is Eric. I'm a social worker. " He pauses to show me his badge. "We're just here to help you." He makes reference to the two cops behind him. "We can take you home? I'm sure your parents are worried about you."

 _Parents_? Huh. The irony. Maybe I should run, but I feel like I'm frozen to the floor. It's not quite Winter yet but it's a bitter fall night, with an icy breeze and it doesn't help that I've been sitting here, still for almost an hour. Yeah, I wouldn't get too far running. I could fight… but I don't wanna end up in juvie. What else can I do? I hear him talking but I'm not paying attention to the words. "15," I mumble, interrupting him. "I'm 15."

He sighs slightly. "How about we go to the precinct?" For the first time since he's approached me, I look him in the eyes, quickly putting my hands to my sides, preparing myself to run or fight. He must notice because he immediately puts his hand up in defense. "Just to talk. You're not in trouble. Can we call your mom? Or dad?" He waits for me to answer but I don't respond. I just look at him. "Plus, it's a lot warmer than here." I look around. If I run, where would I go? I have nowhere to stay… Nowhere _safe_ … I could go back to his… I visibly shudder at the thought. _No, never, not after last time._ I could stay in The Park… Maybe someone there would give me a blanket but I wouldn't sleep. You can't sleep there. They're all fucked up and you don't know what they'd do. Maybe if I go with him, stay quiet he won't put me in a home straight away. I can sleep in the station then disappear in the morning. I breathe out, nodding. I shakily stand up, pulling my backpack with me. None of us says anything, I just walk, following _Eric,_ the cops behind us. I'm told to get in the back of the car first and I do. They all talk and I just look out the window, looking at everyone, some rushing around probably trying to get home, the others clearly tourists fascinated by Port Authority. Mostly the tourists notice me in the back of the cops car, some lingering round, probably hoping to get the _real_ new York experience of seeing someone fighting a cop and bring arrested. I hate being starred at. It reminds me of those adoption picnics _._

I'm startled by the car doors opening. The cold breeze alerts me that the door next to me is also open. I move further away as Eric slides in beside me. He doesn't start talking until the car starts to move. "What's your name?" I don't respond. "Can you at least tell me where your from? Did you get a train here? Bus? Walk? If you talk to me, I can help you. If your running from home, I can help. But if you don't help me, it's going to make things a lot harder for you and me." I roll my eyes. They always make false promises. Every time I've moved, they told me ' _this will be a good place for you_ ' or ' _this could be your forever home_ ' but it never is. Something always happens and then peoples true colors are shown. I know what people are like, all they do is hurt kids like me. "I've met a lot of kids like you, kids who have been hurt by their biological parents… _or in the system,_ " I turn slightly to look at him. "I'm not promising it's going to be okay but I want to help and I'm going to do everything I can… But it would be easier if I at least had something to call you?" His voice is soft, warm.

I'm looking at him, using my superpower. _He's telling the truth._ For once, someone wants to help. He _wants_ to help but I don't think he _can_. I look at him and I realize that I'm here again… Just like a few years ago, I'm being taken to the precinct and I have to give a name. The only differences are back then, I was telling that cop, now I'm telling a social worker… and I thought for sure that by this point in my life, I'd be happy, that I wouldn't still be _that little duckling._ "Emma." I look at him in the eye for the second time tonight. "My name is Emma."


	2. Chapter 2 - Windows and Shadows

**Chapter 2**

"Okay, take a seat here Emma. Do you want some hot cocoa? Something to eat?" He asks. I look at him but don't respond. I haven't said a word again since I told him my name. It wasn't a good idea, what was I thinking? Now he can find out that I'm a two-time runaway… _Oh god he could send me back… I can't go back. Not to them._ I pick at my sleeves until he walks away. I watch him walk to the desk. He briefly talks to the other cop but I can't hear. I turn my attention to the door, where a two cops are dragging in a woman. She looks like shit, way too skinny, teeth decayed as she screams, hair dry and broken. She's wearing an oversized rain jacket and jeans. I've seen this before… too many times, too many foster parents. I watch the clock until he comes back. It feels like forever, but in reality, it's only 4 minutes. I watch him walk to me until he's standing right in front of me. He smiles at me gently but I know he's found out the reason I ran away the _first_ time. Everyone gets _that_ look, the pity look. I hate it. _I don't want to be pitted. I am not that little girl anymore._ I can defend myself now, fight back… and I know whose who know. I know not to trust any foster parents or the other kids. "Emma, come with me."

I follow him into the precinct, filled with cops, some on the phone, eating or talking to others. It's so familiar to me, _too familiar._ We walk past them all, until he stops in front of a woman and shakes her hand. "Hi, Eric Waller."

"Detective Donaldson." She responds before turning to me. "Emma, right? I'm Kristy-" She pauses showing me her badge. "-I would like to ask you some questions." Her voice turns softer when she speaks to me and she gives me a smile, it's not a smile I've seen often before but I _know_ it when I see it… _It's a mother's smile._ "Lets go in here. Eric will be right outside" She leads me to a colorful room with a lot of toys, a couch and a small table with three chairs. I take the seat furthest away from her, holding my bag tightly. "So Emma, lets start with some basics. What's your last name?" I don't respond to her. "Okay, how about your date of birth? Emma, whatever, or whoever, you're running from, we're here to protect you but only if you let us."

I feel the warm tears build at the back of my eyes. I bite my bottom lip, _praying_ they don't fall. I can't cry… _I don't cry_ … But they fall. I quickly use my sleeve to wipe my eyes, even though I'm vaguely aware she's moved the tissues closer to me. "October 22nd… 1983."

"So you've just turned 15?" I nod, not looking at her. "Are you from New York City?" I shake my head, no. "Did you come here alone? Or did you to come with someone?"

"Alone." My voice is a horse whisper.

I hear her mumble an okay as she writes down something… _Probably more than what I'm saying or it wouldn't take this long._ "How long have you been here?" I shrug, _a month? Maybe a little longer._ "Has someone helped you? Maybe paid for you to stay in a hotel? Or for your food?" I feel my body tense up, even though I don't want it to. I stand up quickly, and walk to the window. I look down to the street. It's raining again. The light tapping of the raindrops in the glass calms me momentarily until I hear her ask something else. "I want to go!" I snap.

I hear her stand up and it makes me clutch my bag harder into my chest. "Okay. Let's take a break. I'll be back in a moment."

I don't respond, I just look out the window, I look at the busy city. I hear her leave. She must be talking to Eric. I hate talking about things because no one ever wants to know some of the good stuff… _It's happened, just very rarely and it doesn't last but still… My days with Lily and Ingrid… those were happy times… kinda._ I hear the door open again and I briefly glance over to see Eric and the detective coming in. "Emma-" He begins. "For now, I'm going to take you to a foster home. In the morning, you'll have to come back here and talk to Detective Donaldson again, okay?" I don't answer but I throw my backpack on my shoulder ready to go. Before we leave, they try to get more details out of me, but all they get is my last name. Eric and I get into a cop car and soon we're off. Back into the traffic. I sigh to myself. I hate this part. The unknowing of where I'm gonna end up, not even knowing where the bathroom is or what I need to be on the lookout for… The other _kids_? The _adults_? Or _both_?

 **Killian's POV**

 _"_ _Boy! Get out here!" I flinch when I hear him screaming for me. I quickly run above deck, wearing my tattered clothes. As I run up the stairs, I begin to smell the ocean air and I can see the stars twinkle in the night sky – I can't help but smile. That is until I see him and I can tell he's been drinking. I stop in front of him, standing up straight with my chin up but not looking him in the eye. "Ah! There you are!" He grabs me by my neck, dragging me forward. "Look at the sky my boy! You see there? North Star, you find her, you can go anywhere!" I look anywhere but the North Star, knowing the other stars in the sky are just as important. He continues rambling on about sextants and latitudes but I don't care. "Go get my Brandy." He demands, pushing me to the ground. His men just laugh as I grit my teeth. I can't fight back. I can't stop him... or any of them and they all know it, so they laugh. I pass it to him and wait for him to allow me to return below deck, accepting all the vile words he says about Liam and myself. All I do is grit my teeth, not fighting back. Liam says not to fight back, to wait until he can buy our way out. As I return, all the other boys look at me anxiously, waiting for me to tell them what we're facing tonight. "He's drinking." My voice is quiet but I see their reactions. In particular, the new boy, Elijah. He's small, only been here for a week but quickly become a favorite. I look away from him and curl up into my cot, closing my eyes tightly. One day, we'll be free. Free..._

"Killian? Can you hear me?" I open my eyes and see concern in his eyes, he's sat upright and almost off his chair. "Are you alright? You didn't speak for almost 5 minutes." I nod in response. "You were telling me about Whitney? Did he let you go back to your room?" I stand up, walking to the window _. "_ Aye." My voice is curt, not that he deserves it. "Killian, why don't we call it for today. I'll see you on Friday?" I don't respond. I just walk out, tense with my jaw clenched. I hate… _therapy_ _days_ , _that's what they call them_. I roll my eyes, _people who call themselves doctors and want to hear everything bad that has happened to you… this world is bizarre._


	3. Chapter 3 - Food, then sleep

**Chapter 3**

 **Killian's POV**

As we walk out at the 110th street station, I glance over at Michael. The whole way here, he has been distracted. Normally he would have asked me a thousand bloody questions about what I spoke about with that charlatan in some misguided attempt to get to know me. However, this time, as soon as we left, he was on that _talking device… a cellular phone?_ Whatever magic they use here to talk on those things, I don't know but I know he was speaking to Marie. I can always tell when people hiding something, _I can always read people's intentions just by the look in their eyes._ "Killian." He smiles at me but his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. I stiffen as his hand lands on my shoulder, not in a hurtful way by any means… _But the touch alone is new to me._ He quickly removes it and continues. "I need to pick up some things from the grocery store. A new foster child may be staying with us for a little while. Can I trust you to go home and wait with Jackson and Ava until I get home?" He's watching me closely, looking for a lie. "Aye," He smiles slightly handing me the keys to his… _Apartment. That's what they call them._ I make the short walk back… _my new home…_

 _My brother, I have been here for three months today and… I miss you. This world and everything in it is strange. They have magic but appear to be unaware. They have big square boxes, as if made by a blacksmith but too big and detailed for any one man and they all move, taking you quickly from one place to another. Some are underground, others are above ground. I do not understand it brother and wish you were here. They also have little things, used for communication. They do not need to write letters nor do they need to meet the other to talk, they can do it from miles away. I've witnessed it myself brother. They also have heat without fire inside and different kinds of homes with lights, but again, no fire. When you ask any of them what form of magic can do this, they are unaware of what you mean by magic. Something they call science… It is so confusing in this world. Here I go to school… they say I do well apart from in something called chemistry and physics… they call it science but the clerics in our world would burn them for witchcraft. There is a subject called world history and brother it is fantastic! They tell stories like the lives we live on the seas and others on land. Brother… I admit this world has it's perks and I think we would both like to live here but… without you brother, no world is sufficient. I will find you brother. We will be together aga_

I feel Jackson grabbing my hand, a little too excitedly, before I feel him. "Killian!" I roll my eyes at the intrusion, quickly shutting my journal. "It's a girl, she's here!" He mutters under his breath. "She's like Ava's age but she's not speaking to Michael or Marie! And she's hot, come on!" _Ugh._ I decide to give the kid a break and follow him into the living room. _Great. Another person living here. Why can't it just be the five of us?_ I look up and see her… I'm momentarily struck by her beauty, her long blonde hair soaked most likely by the rain but somehow, still falling on her shoulders and face perfectly; her features striking… but it's her eyes. I can see she's been hurt, more than once, yes the anger is clear… however, it's the fear that she is so desperately trying to hide that is most notable. It's clearer than any diamond or star in the night sky. I know that look, I have seen it on so many other children, _on myself…_ she has so little left to give. I see her eyeing me up, trying to figure me out just like I'm doing to her.

"And, this is Killian. He came to live with us two months ago." Marie introduces me. _Damnit, she is hot as Jackson put it._ I briefly say hi before exiting for my room. By the time I get back to my room, I can hear Ava showing the new girl around. _Emma…_ Hm. She's interesting, to say the least, so clearly marred by her past but… there's something about her. I lie down on my bed and I can't help but think about her. There are lots of children in this world, too many without parents caring for them like me, _but her, Emma…_ Love has been all too rare in her life, too rare for someone with parents. _She's an orphan._ They all have the same look in their eyes. Liam and I are somewhat lucky, our bastard of a father decided not to leave us until we had known of a good life, known of someone protecting us and loving us so we managed to escape that look. We're just abandoned, not good enough for our mother or father to love forever, not like the other children we meet in port. I smile at the thought of this house, full of the abandoned, an orphan and one biological child, Ava. She's never known of the hurt and neglect that the rest of us feel, especially Emma, _if I'm correct._ It will be interesting watching them share a room.

"Killian!" I hear Jackson burst in once again. I can't help but grit my teeth in annoyance. "What'd I tell you about her? Hot right?" He's gleaming at me, waiting for a response. Well, he's going to be waiting for a very long time. "Why don't you ever talk about girls?" I freeze on this. _Because no girl in their right mind could truly love me_. "I'm going to get a snack. Go to bed." I murmur, pushing him off my bed while sitting up. He looks disheartened but I'm not ready to discuss everything with this lad. I make my way to the kitchen until I hear Michael.

"-so we just want to know, do you have any allergies? Any foods you dislike? Any routines we need to know?" I watch her lost at their questions. I remember them asking me those same questions, and like her, I had no answer. What could I say? After all, where I'm from, if you can't eat what you're given, you starve and _routine_? Working from before the sun rises until after dark and being belittled in every way known to man is the only thing I've grown used to. "Okay, well is there any medication you are meant to take? What about your GPA?" Marie speaks up. "I don't take anything and I haven't been in school for… a while." Her eyes shift to the floor, ashamed. I shouldn't be watching or listening to this. Pushing myself away, I retreat to the bathroom, hoping that Jackson will be asleep by the time I leave… _Hoping I won't see that Emma girl again tonight._

I lie in my bed, wide awake, watching each minute pass on that loud box they call an alarm. _1:23am._ Since I've been here, I always was asleep by 'lights out', 11:45 pm but this girl… I'm angry with myself for her being stuck in my mind. But, I'm also hungry. _1:24._ Bloody hell. "Okay, food, then sleep," I whisper to myself over Jackson's light snores.

I slump down on the window sill, taking my first bite of the pop-tart. Personally, I've never understood how _this_ could be a breakfast meal, over a nice maceral but I can see the appeal, it's sweet, _possibly one of the sweetest things ever put into my mouth._ My head automatically turns at the sound of the door opening. It's the blonde hair that I see first. _Emma._ Even with the minimal light from the street coming in, I can tell she's dry now but she's got her bag with her. _She's running._ When she turns, our eyes meet. Her green locked my blue, and a flash of fear on her face quickly hushed away by some kind of defence. Neither of us say a word, we just look at each other, waiting for the other to say a word. I can tell by the look on her face that Emma isn't fazed by the silence. I guess it stops her from divulging anything about herself. "Do you want one?" I break the silence first, holding up the pop-tart to answer her unasked question. "You don't speak much do you?" I raise my eyebrow, teasing her.

I watch her roll her eyes at me. "Not unless there is someone worth talking to," she quips back. _Smart girl. Liam would like her._ I watch her stand there uncomfortable for a moment, looking from me to the pop-tart. "D-don't they mind? You eating their food?"

"No. They aren't like other people here… In the last home," I get up, closing some of the distance between us but still with enough for her to not feel threatened. "It was every lad, or lass, for themselves, so coming here, I was a lot like you. Try trusting them, love. It'll get you further than you think." I watch her intently, from knitting her brows. _Hm. More silence._ "You know, I believe I asked you a question."

She turns her head slightly. "Actually, you asked two."

I can't help but smirk. "Smart girl. Since you didn't answer my first one, let me ask you another. Why are you leaving?"

I watch her turn slightly to the side, hiding herself, _protecting herself._ "None of your business."

And there it is again. The momentary fear followed by a quick defence. I slump down on the divan, or _couch_ as they call it here. "Just trying to make conversation, love." _Just stop Killian. You have enough damage, and you don't need a girl with her own._ A girl like her can never love me, we actually come from completely different worlds and I need to go back to mine. I go back to eating, knowing full well that she's watching me but I don't know why she just doesn't go.

"The last time I was in a home like this, they lied. Pretended to like me, to care. I don't want to fall for that again. I only needed to get warm." She explains, still turned away so I can't see her face. "My turn to ask you a question. Where are you from?"

 _Where am I from?_ " _Ha_! You wouldn't believe me if I told you." The last time I told someone where I'm from, I ended with me having to speak to that charlatan once a week.

"Come on," She sits opposite me on the edge of the table, clearly more comfortable with the conversation being switched to me. "They said you're from England, right? Where? What's it like?"

I shake my head. "I'm from a coastal village, Ostlake. A lot of sailors come to the port from all over to trade everything, from rare items to herbs from unknown lands. The men who aren't brave enough for the seas are either fishermen or hunters. When we were younger, my brother and I, we would sneak out and go to the bar to listen to the stories from the captains. Sometimes, they would give us some coins to do odd jobs on their ships. We always wanted to live on a ship, be men." My smile of my childhood memories slowly fades at the realization that my brother is still aboard that ship, with Whitney.

"Unknown lands? What do you mean? And you have a brother?" I look up at her, seeing genuine interest. "Where is he? I-"

"He's far away," I interject curtly. "He would love it here," I add quietly. There's a silence between us again and I realize it's due to my rudeness from her question. For some reason, talking to her is _easy._ I don't want to stop, I don't want this to end. I stand up, walking to the kitchen area, grabbing two bottles of water. I feel her eyes watching me, taking in everything that I'm doing but when I glance up, she's clearly on high alert, sitting up straight, tight grip on her bag. "Do you like pretzels?" _No answer._ "Hm, you know, most people would take your silence as off-putting but I like a challenge," I smirk at her raising an eyebrow.

She rolls her eyes at me, clearly irritated by my statement. "I'm… thinking."

 _Lies_. "No, you're afraid. Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself but trust me, things will go a lot better if you do."

"You don't know anything about me."

I scoff. "You're an orphan, shown little love. So you've closed yourself off to it, probably thinking that if your own parents cannot love you, how can anyone else," There's that fear in her eyes once again. "I know because I have seen _so many_ others like you… _Like me._ I _know_ what it's like not to be able to trust, not to believe anyone can love you. _I know you better than you think._ "

She shifts uncomfortably and it's clear that my observation has made her uncomfortable. She stands up, showing her bag over one shoulder. "Screw you." She mutters before making her way to the door.

 _Fuck!_ I jog after her, catching her arm in my hand. She stops, not turning and I don't know what to say to her. Why am I guilty? I've said worse to a lot of the other lads on the ship, the other sailors, _hell even to our previous_ captains, things that have gotten Liam and I a whipping or beating more than once but not once have I ever felt this amount of guilt. "I'm sorry if what I said offended you… Don't run away." I pause trying to think of a good reason but _really there isn't one._ "Marie and Michael are good people, so is Ava and Jackson – as annoying as he is."

"So you're the only dick?" Her eyes meet mine but I can barely see them in the dim orange glow peering through from the street lights.

I don't know how to respond. Everything I'm feeling is unusual. "I-I…" I let go of her. "Can we start again? No silence and I won't be a _dick._ " _As she calls it._ She doesn't respond but she turns to me slightly and I use that as my opportunity. "Killian Jones." I hold out my hand.

She doesn't say anything nor does she shake my hand. She just stares at me, an unreadable expression on her face. "Emma Swan." I smile slightly, Emma Swan…

 _Swan._


	4. Chapter 4 - Turbulence

_Just a note to remember; this isn't the sassy, smart-ass, flirty Killian that we know and love. This is a_ 15-year-old _version who is scared, alone and with has a lot of issues._

 **Killian's POV**

We're sitting on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, only the side lamp on. _This world and its magic… lighting indoors without fire, it's amazing._ I decided not to ask her anything too personal or something that might push her further away, trying not to be a _dick._ I'm not quite sure what that means but from her attitude, it's nothing good. She's still apprehensive, quiet. I reach out to the pretzels to quickly eat another. Marie and Michael quickly got used to my unusual eating habits, barely eating dinner with the _family_ , to rather eat when everyone is asleep. They normally leave me a plate of what they had for dinner in the refrigerator but I don't want the Swan girl to see me for what I really am. At least, not yet. I've noticed her watching me as I eat and drink, frankly making me feel uncomfortable but I haven't stopped her. It's not like it is when I'm at school or when the others are eating here… with her its-its not a lonely feeling… I break eye-contact with her realizing that I can't even describe my own feelings.

"D-Do they really not mind you doing that?" She breaks the silence. "Eating their food, I mean." She continues, answering my unspoken question.

 _Did she eat dinner tonight? Or today at all?_ She came so late, after dinner. I mean, they would've left her some food, I think… "No." I stop, wondering if I should continue. _Don't let this girl know too much about you Killian._ I blink at the thoughts in my head, considering them but at the same time, thinking back to how much I've probed into her life. "I, uh, I don't like eating around others usually. Um, so they leave me food and… when I'm hungry, I eat." I can't even look in her direction. _Why am I so suddenly ashamed of this?_

There's that silence again. It's driving me mad because I don't know what she's thinking, I don't know what's in her head at this moment. I turn to her, annoyed but she isn't looking at me, she's just staring at the pretzels until she notices me. "If I eat… some food…" She pauses every few words, struggling. _What is it, Swan?_ "Will they be mad at me?" I barely hear her voice, it's that low.

"No." My tone matches hers. For the first time, she's opening herself up to me, allowing herself to be vulnerable. "I'll tell them it was me," I speak without thinking.

She shoots over, standing in front of the fridge. I watch her from my position, hand on the handle but not moving. _What is she doing?_ I watch her for a few more seconds before she finally opens it. As soon as it opens, she tears into a loaf of bread, somehow eating it without appearing to do much chewing. I can't help but stare as she goes for the milk next, followed by things they call _pudding._ I begin to worry until she suddenly stops, reaching for certain foods and putting them in her bag, I watch her fill up the bag until no more can fit. "I haven't eaten food in a while. Don't know when I'll get more next." She murmurs while picking up the almost-finished loaf and empty milk box.

"If you stay here, there will be food every morning and night, Swan." She doesn't respond to me, so I just walk over to her, helping her clean up the reminding food on the floor. "My first night here, I was very angry. I hated them, Marie and Michael, Ava, Jackson without reason. I planned to leave so I took Jackson's bag, one like yours, but black." I refer to the one she throws over her shoulder. "I packed it with food and I was about to leave. Michael found me and asked me to try living here for a week, then decide. I've been here for almost two months now."

"Glad you found a family." Her voice is laced with jealousy, but she doesn't understand that this isn't my family. _Liam is my family._ She looks me in the eye, angrily but also hurt. "Before long, they'll either make me go back or put me in another home. There is no _happily ever after_ crap for me."

 _Feeling sorry for yourself? In a world like this?_ I scoff. Her attitude is irritating, to say the least. "Firstly, this _isn't_ my family. My brother is my family, is my happiness. Second, maybe if you give yourself a chance and stop looking for that happily ever after stuff you can be happy," I throw the fallen food and containers in the bin. "If everyone acted like you Swan, no one would even know what happiness feels like."

"You act like you know me like you know what it's like to have no family but you don't! You have a broth-"

"But Liam isn't here, is he!" I say a lot louder and with a lot more force than intended. "No, my brother is out there with God knows what is happening to him! Until I have my way back to him, I am staying in a warm place, with food and where I don't have to work from sunrise until dark or where I don't get beaten or, or-" I stop, realizing that I'm breathing heavily and that I don't want her to know what happens to me, to Liam. Her face looks in horror at me, at my revelations.

I take a step back, not a word spoken between us. _Fuck, fuck fuck!_ What the hell was I thinking? I turn and quickly make my way back to my shared room. Sneaking into bed, I curl up tightly, closing my eyes to prevent the tears from falling. But it fails. I take my hand and repeating hit it against my head, repeating the same mantra that Liam has been telling me since father left us to be slaves; _Stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying!_ I slowly drift off to sleep, knowing my dreams will be plagued with my painful memories but it's better than being awake at the moment. Being weak and _crying. I have to be strong, like Liam, not a coward. Not a coward._

 _"No, I don't believe you! Our father would never leave us!" I shout back at the captain but he merely laughs at me, at us. I turn to a fully awake Liam, his eyes wide with fear and shock. He believes this man's lies! "Liam, don't listen to him! Father is a good man, not a criminal!"_

 _Liam turns to me, unsure of what to believe, while that man just laughs. "Boy, once your father heard people were looking for him at our next port, he did not hesitate to leave. I believe his words were 'I cannot run with those who want for everything but can provide nothing'. He wanted a fresh start boy. That didn't include you."_

 _The smirk on his face angers me. Father would never say that. He just wouldn't! I turn to Liam who is distraught. "Did he really say that?" Liam asks in a small voice for the first time since the captain has entered. The captain answers but I can't hear it. I can't hear anything apart from my heart beating so fast, I think it's going to burst._

 _No… no! We've seen what life is like for children without mothers and fathers. They work all day and night, barely eat, they get beaten and… no. Father wouldn't. He just wouldn't. I don't realize I'm crying until the hot tears burn on my cheeks. It's the only other sensation I can feel apart from my heart beating. Suddenly, I'm being pushed to the floor and I look up to see the captains first mate but in a blur, Liam is in front of me. I think he's angry but I can't take in anything. Father… please just come down. Say it was a joke! Please, father, please!_

 _"Killian, stop crying. Stop crying!"_

 _I'm vaguely aware that the first mate and captain are laughing at us, at me but Liam's voice is the only thing I can hear and I want to stop but I cannot. I cannot move or think. Father please come back. Please!_

I gasp loudly, opening my eyes. _Where am I?_ Sitting up, I see it's daylight, Michael kneeling next to me, Jackson behind him. They both look worried, gazing at me. I look over to that alarm thing and see it's 6:39. _I overslept._ "Killian, are you alright?" Michael puts his hand on my shoulder blade, causing me to flinch. I don't respond. Throwing the covers off me, I quickly stand up. Michael doesn't say anything else. _He knows not to._ "Okay," he murmurs. "20 minutes until breakfast." He glances at me one more time before leaving.

Angrily I walk over to the closet, pulling out a pair of jeans, a shirt and some underwear. I can feel Jackson's eyes burning into the back of my head. _You're an idiot._ I say to myself. Letting this girl get to you. It wasn't meant to be like this. I storm out, leaving Jackson in our room. Before I even get to the door, I know Ava's in there, taking a shower. _I can hear her annoying singing._ "Ava!" I bark, pounding on the door. "Other people need to use the bathroom as well!" She doesn't response which annoys me further. It's not that I'm angry with her, or anyone. _I'm angry at myself._ And maybe that Swan girl. But she's long gone by now. After last night, there's no way she stayed. I close my eyes and lean my head on the door. _Damn it_. Since I arrived in this world, she's the first person who I _get._ And I just push her away, like she needed another reason to run.

 _"Killian."_ Michael's voice again. _Great. Just what I need._ "Killian, you need a breather. Remember what Doctor Lewis said; when you feel yourself getting angry or not in control, walk away. Write down how you feel, use your stress ball or we can go for a jog. It's your choice, what do you want to do?"

I swallow hard. _I want Liam here._ I shrug when he asks me what I want to do again. "I-I don't know." My voice cracks slightly and I can feel myself about to break down once again. _Stupid._ "Last night, I was just reminded of Liam and… and memories." My voice is barely a whisper. "I'm fine." I grit my teeth. _Man up. You aren't a boy anymore. Men don't cry._ "I just wanna take a shower." I finally look him in the eye. Concern written all over his face.

"Okay. Well, in the meantime, why don't you help us in the kitchen?" I nod slowly. "Yeah? Okay." I follow him into the main living area, dumping my clothes on one of the chairs and I start setting the table. Three plates, five glasses, three knives and forks, two spoons and two bowls. Maria prefer cereals over hot breakfast, with Jackson _only_ eating cereal for breakfast, with milk. Michael and Ava like hot foods, especially Ava and her toast. Me? I might have some eggs or a cereal bar. Or just wait until lunch at school, much to everyone's annoyance. As I place the last spoon, I notice her. My mouth falls open. _She stayed._ She's wearing the same clothes as last night but she looks cleaner. _Maybe she was in the shower?_ But her hair isn't that wet. "Don't forget to set a place for Emma." Michaels warm friendly voice again. We're both there starring at each other. It's still quite dark outside but with all the indoor lights on, I can clearly see her for the beauty she is again. _Wow. There's something about this girl._ "Killian, you heard?"

I blink a few times, trying to get my mouth to work. "Uhm, cold or hot food?" She gives me that _I don't understand_ look and then I remember her eating that bread. She's so much like me. _I don't like it._ "I think Michael is making eggs and _bacon_ but there's cereal. With milk." She stands there, looking at me with her mouth open. Michael mentions something about giving her a plate and letting her choose later and I manage a reply but my eyes are on her. I finally pull my eyes away from her to get another plate. When I return to the table, she's next to me. "Why did you stay?" I whisper, placing the cutlery.

I feel the warmth of her hand touch my upper arm. "I hope you find your brother."


	5. Chapter 5 - Go Cubs!

**_I really apologize for the very long wait. I have had such a busy, CRAZY summer and now I'm starting my masters. But I've been updating it every so often and I'm trying! I hopefully will come out with another chapter before mid-October._**

 ** _Hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

Emma's POV

 _Why did I stay?_ I don't know. I've left for a lot less before. This is my thing. I jump around, not staying anywhere for more than a few months… _unless I don't have a choice._ But here I have the choice. They don't lock us up in rooms or chain us down. I can leave here easily… like I planned to. But this guy… Killian. I can't even explain it. I feel _connected_ to him, but I don't even know him. I've never met him before. He's just another kid who doesn't have any parents to care about him… _but he has family because he has a brother. Who apparently cares about him. A brother he misses and wants to be with._ I look up at him. I don't know what it's like to _truly_ miss someone like that. I touch his arm. "I hope you find your brother."

"Killian, you done setting the table?" Michael's voice startles me, making me remove my hand from him.

Killian smiles at me, but it isn't a smile that reaches his eyes. "I'm finished," he replies to Michael. "I hope so too." His voice is small so no one else hears.

He opens his mouth again but is interrupted by another boy… the one that kept smiling at me and tried to wink at me. _He looks like he's 10._ He strolls in like a big burst of sunshine, all happy and talkative. Before I know it, Killian is gone. _Guess he went to take that shower he was so pissed off about._

The boy, Jackson continues to talk to me, as does Michael until Marie and Ava join us. They all ask me 101 questions about how I slept, what foods I like, about school, if I like New York. Just so many things and I don't know what to say. I didn't sleep much, I was just comfortable. I like food _. What kinda question is that for a foster kid? It's not like we have someone to complain to if we don't like a certain type of milk._ I don't not like New York City. It's a beautiful city. The city is always alive, places to go, things to see. But at 15… it's not somewhere I want to be alone _or at night. That's when the sickos come out._ And school? I haven't been in so long… do I even qualify for graduating at 18? How can I say that? With their perfect Ava getting A's and it being plastered all over the refrigerator? Jackson being captain of the stupid basketball team and them being _so fucking proud?_ When those questions come up, Marie quickly changes the subject, once she notices my discomfort. Soon, Michael calls Killian, telling him it's breakfast time. Everyone starts grabbing food, and I can't help but smile. It's like a tv show… _like that show Full House!_ Everyone just goes for the food and starts eating, talking, being happy and Jolly. _For starters, it's too early to be this perky, and secondly I can't believe there are people that actually do this without fighting._ Everywhere I've lived, including the Andersons and Ingrid, there is either fighting or quiet conversation and the food is put out on plates… _so we don't eat too much_. _I don't get it._

I squirm uncomfortable with my current situation, until I see Killian out the corner of my eye. I can't help but _stare._ His hair is still damp from the shower, with tiny drops of water falling into his shirt and face. He clearly hasn't combed it or even tried to make it fit in with this family. He's dressed in t-shirt and jeans, typical teenager clothes but I notice him tagging at his jeans slight. The look on his face isn't a good one but I recognize it, from when _he_ would make me dress up in those disgusting dresses. _But what guy doesn't like wearing normal clothes like that?_ He looks like a bad boy, someone designed to hurt girls. _The blue eyes, dark hair and that accent…_ When he looks up, he notices me and I feel my cheeks redden. I momentarily look away but I'm aware he's coming to sit next to me. He doesn't immediately eat and he doesn't he get involved in the conversation either. I focus my eyes on my plate until it feels like they'll burn a hole into it. _Do not look at Killian. Do not be a creep. You know a guy like that will hurt you. He will hurt you._

"Emma," Marie's voice commands my attention. "You're going to school with Killian and Ava. I'm going with you so we can get you registered. At the moment, you'll have to take Ava's old backpack." I feel my heart begin to beat hurt. I don't want to go and be there with their star children. _Fuck._ My hands fall into my lap and turn into fists.

"All we ask is to try your best." Michael reassures, probably sensing my anxiety. "Everyone has their talents. Ava does well in school, Jackson is more athletic and Killian here," I see a burst of admiration from Michael and Marie. "He is our resident author and languages expert!" _Killian? A writer?_ He looks down, clearly embarrassed by all the attention he's getting. _Better him than you_ I say to myself.

Ava looks up at him, flashing the _perfect daughter, star student, head cheerleader, has-probably-had-10-boyfriends_ smile. I know her type. It's not that I have anything against her. It's just… _what does she have that I don't? Why did her parents choose to keep her but mine didn't?_ Jackson starts babbling about some new thing Killian's writing until Ava interrupts. "Anyway," she stops Jackson. "Emma, if you need any help, I'm here. Plus our school is nice for the city. We have basketball and baseball teams, go cubs!" She smiles over at me.

"We're all here." Marie reiterates with a smile.

They all keep talking about random things, nothing that I'm particularly interested in. Out the corner of my eye, I see Killian reach for a banana and I remember him saying he doesn't eat around them much. As I watch them together, I feel like Killian understands how I feel being here more. The four of them are together, they talk and eat together and they look like a family. Killian sits outside of that, looking in but when fleeting moments of attention are given, he retracts further, clearly showing a difference between Jackson and Ava. When they are shown attention, they lavish it, happily sharing and receiving that attention. _I get where he's coming from. It's hard to accept praise when you've rarely received any or deserved any._

"What's for lunch?" Jackson loudly says, interrupting my thoughts.

"Bagels today. Mike, didn't you buy bread at the market yesterday?" _Fuck._ I pale at their reaction. I quietly breathe in and out, my hands in my lap and I just look down. _They seem like nice people, right? Maybe they won't get angry._

"I was hungry last night." Killian mumbles. I head instantly turns to him. "I thought we had more." His voice is apologetic, low.

I turn back to Michael and Marie, who give each other a _look_ and everyone is quiet. "I had three brothers. By the time they reached 14, my parents had to spend an extra 50 bucks a week on food." She chuckles.

Everyone starts talking again. I feel his eyes on me, but I don't look. I keep my eyes in my lap, playing with my fingers and ignoring the hunger I feel. They don't really talk to me for the rest of breakfast, just occasionally asking the odd question which I reply with as little words as possible. At the end of breakfast, Ava loads all the dishes into the dishwasher and everyone is ready with their bags and winter coats. Killian only wears a black jeans jacket with his hair appearing semi-wet, then there's me, in the same exact clothes as last night. I had refused Marie's offer of letting her wash them and I begin to regret it. _I wasn't planning on staying._ They offer me Ava's old winter coat but I refuse. Wearing her bright pink backpack is bad enough, without a _too_ -white puff coat. I pay a lot of attention once we leave the house, significantly more than when I was on my way here last night. We walk for about 5 minutes to 110th street, go two stops to 96th street on the overcrowded train. Michael stays on and another kid joins Jackson who also stays on. The four of us walk six blocks down to 91st street until I see the school. _Central Park West High._ All the other kids hanging out, talking in groups around. Ava soon disappears with a bunch of girls, who look like the typical cheerleader most-popular-kids group. Marie makes some joke about Ava not saying goodbye. Killian stays by my side, his face emotionless.

As soon as we enter, I feel myself relaxing slightly. It looks like any other school, with kids everywhere, posters of the _Winter Ball,_ various clubs and safety notices. No one looks at us, its like we're invisible. _Just the way I like it._ We continue into the madness of students until we get to the main office. Killian stays with us and I'm secretly glad.

"Mrs Addler, Killian! How are you?" A man, I'm guessing the principle greets Marie. They talk for a little while, just normal 'I haven't seen you in a long time' things. "Ah, you must be Emma." He smiles down at me. "I'm Principle Griffin. Welcome to Central Park West!" He takes a piece of paper out of the folder he's holding. "This is your class schedule. First you have Mrs Duncan for American History in 210. Killian-"

"I'll take you." Our eyes meet for the first time since breakfast. I awkwardly look way and nod. Principle Griffin tells Killian to be my buddy until I get the hang of things, and tells me that the school councelor will come to talk to me today. _Great._ He goes on for a bit more, but I'm not paying attention. It's the same old routine, _you can do this, this isn't allowed, detention, lockers, friends, bell. Everything I've heard at least 5 times before._ "Uh, I should take her to her locker. First period will be starting soon." Killian interrupts him mid-sentence, and I thank him silently. Once we get out into the hall, I breathe again. "This way." We walk side-by-side, with the odd kid pushing between us. "He's a… talkative man. But he means well. You're lucky, the only lockers left in the school were on the fourth floor by the boys bathroom _. No one_ wants those."

I smile slightly. "Thanks… you know, for this morning."

He doesn't respond but pulls something out of his bag. "Here, for breakfast," He hands me an orange. "You need to eat, love." I pause for a second, as he turns the corner to climb the second set of stairs.

"I'm not hungry." I lie, as I hush to catch up with him but he just rolls his eyes at me.

"If you don't want to listen to me, fine but listen to your own body. I heard your stomach at breakfast and it wasn't an ' _I'm full'_ sound." I look away at the fruit. "Mrs Duncan's is room 304, third floor, room 4. First number, floor, second and thir-"

"I'm not stupid." I stop in the middle of the hallway, turning to face him as a wave of anger rushes through me.

"Aye, I know. And I wouldn't treat you as stupid, I'm just…" He stops and we keep walking until we reach some lockers. He points to one which I'm assuming is mine. "Why did you stay?"

I roll my eyes at the change of subject. "This again?" My voice is laced with anger and frustration.

"Why?" He asks, firmer.

I shrug, looking down at the schedule that also has my locker code on it. "Look, I'm here okay. You said they are nice and to give them a chance so here I am. Why are _you_ complaining?" I turn back to my locker but then it hits me. _Last night, he mentioned he was beaten but… then he stopped._ "I won't tell them," I say but he doesn't respond. "About last nig-"

"I know what you mean." I peek up at him out the corner of my eye. His head is hung low with his eyes shut, hair falling messily in front of his face. "There's something about you Swan." He murmurs and I see a flash of blue as his eyes open. "You aren't like the others."

"What others?"

"The lost orphans. They've all given up, just settled for trying to survive."

"That _is_ what I do. I'm a survivor."

"Yes you are lass," He pauses, pushing himself off the other lockers. "But there's something different about you. _Something._ "


	6. Chapter 6 - Cinnamon

**Chapter 6**

Killian's POV

 _She's pushing things into her locker, some composition books and a book that I've seen before. "There isn't anything different about me Killian expect that my parents didn't give a fuck about me and decided to leave me on the side of the road hours after I was born. I'm the same as everyone else. I just survive." She's angry… at me? "Look, I hope you get to find your brother and everything works out. Maybe they'll adopt the two of you and you'll get the family and all that. But me? I'm a lone wolf." She slams her locker door. "See you around." I watch her blonde locks fling around as she walks away, clearly irritated at something._

The memory has gone through my head all morning and now into the afternoon. I'm stuck in American Literature and my mind is on this lass, physically no different to any other I've met… _Apart from her beauty._ She's a fiery one, that's for sure. Liam would have her in a second, he always has the attention of the girls when we are at port. He's tall, muscular and behaves with purpose. He doesn't let the misfortunes of our past get in the way of his life, no matter the beating he receives, when at port, he is the first to sneak off with some of the other boys, have one drink and flirt. He's never ever had more than one and never drinks if we're to set sail. I've always warned him about it… _If the captain were to dare catch him…_

 _"So, you boys thought you would go out eh?" I hear the Captains voice, angrily. "You looking for a whore to fuck?" The way he says every word is vile, everything he says sounds like an insult. I'm running to get to the main deck but before I manage to, I hear the crack and my brother shrieking in pain. "And who exactly told ya that you could leave the ship huh?" The noise again but this time I need another boy screams. "Because it certainly wasn't me!" Liam screams this time and I freeze. Little George bangs into me from behind as I peak out, through a crack in the planks. Liam and Charlie are being held by some of the crew, none looking like they are about to help._

 _"Liam…" A faint whisper escapes my lips. I bite my lip as small drops of blood trickle down Liam's back and on to the floor. Charlie is barely standing and he only has two lashes. Liam and I have had to endure much worse._

 _"Whose idea was this? Hm? Nothing to say now?" The crew laugh and snicker at his anger, clearly finding it funny. I feel the warm tears fall down my face. It isn't fair! When we're at port, all the crew have freedom unless they have angered the Captain or they are owned by him… We just stay and clean._

 _"It was me!" I hear Liam say bravely to the Captain. "It was my idea. I talked Charlie into it! Let him go and punish me instead!" His voice is full of pain, anyone can clearly hear it._

 _I hear the crew murmuring, talking under their breath, and his first-mate whispers something to him. "Hm." The Captain finally speaks." You're a brave one, I'll give you that. But, that bravery isn't going to make me go easier on you boy, and it certainly won't help Charlie over here," He points his head towards Charlie, who is limp, his body just held up 2 of the men. My heart feels like it's going to explode as the Captain walks slowly and silently towards Liam. "Especially since he was the ringleader!" He bellows loudly. "15 lashes each!" No!_

"Mr. Jones?" I hear someone call my name, making me jump. I blink a few times, until I realize I'm back in American Literature. "Mr. Jones, welcome back!" Miss Patmore says sarcastically as the other kids snicker. "We're discussing the symbolism of the Pequod," She says, approaching me. "Any comments?" I look down, not saying a word. I was meant to finish the book last night but I didn't get a chance. "See me after class, Killian." She says, with a small smile on her face. Miss Patmore has always been nice to me, giving me chance after chance to catch up to the others so I can do this graduation-thing they all keep discussing.

She continues her teaching but my mind wonders back to Emma and Liam. He's never really been with a woman, _or a girl_. But that doesn't mean that they aren't after him. Even some of the Captains night companions have flirted with Liam, _not the ones only after gold or to say they've been with a man of title, but the nice, often young, ones._ He's always liked the blondes too… The thought of Swan with Liam makes me angry. I feel my hands ball up into fists. _No. Not Swan with Liam._

The bell ringing distracts me from my anger. "Everyone, essays, due on Friday!" Miss Patmore calls out as everyone starts getting up and talking to their friends as they leave. As the class begins to empty out, Miss Patmore strolls over to me. "Killian, what's going on? You love Moby Dick and you always have questions or answer them." I shrug, just trying to get Liam and Emma being together out of my mind. _Why do I even care? She's just a lass._ "You're one of my best students. Someone like you with a passion for writing _and_ the classics…," She sighs. I look up at her and can tell she's frustrated with me. "You can have an amazing future, go to college, do a lot of things with your life. Don't let anything distract from that future." She pauses again before giving me a sad smile. "Go on, get to your next class."

I grab my books and thank her before leaving. The halls are filled with students, messing around, getting books, going from class to class within the four minute time period. I open my locker and I put my copy of Moby Dick gently on the top shelf, along with some other books Miss Patmore gave me. My other composition books are just thrown inside the bottom shelf, along with a few pens, and some math stuff. I look down at my timetable, _hm._ Wednesday, sixth period, geometry. I roll my eyes. _A fantastic way to end this day._ At least I'll see Emma… I slam my locker shut, _probably because I'm still thinking about Liam with Emma,_ and make my way down to the second floor. Mathematics has never been something I've been good at. Counting and subtracting? Of course, otherwise tradesmen would rob you blind of your doubloons. But all of this geometry and 9th grade algebra just isn't something I'll ever understand. What is the point of me learning Quadratic Relationships and nonsense equations? _It's not like I'll ever use it in my world or this one._ As I approach the class, the hallways begin to clear. The first bell has already rang, meaning everyone has 1 minute before they are late. I've never been too bothered about being late here but at the same time, I've never gone out of my way to be late. As I reach the door, I notice her, _Swan. She's leaving._

 _"Swan!"_ I whisper loudly, moving out of view from the class. Her head swings around, and our eyes lock from across the hallway. For a second, _just a second,_ I see her differently… _like royalty from my land… I can imagine her, in a ball gown, her long blonde locks, up… like a princess._ I blink rapidly, trying to bring myself back to re[CK(2] ality, as she leaves through the back doors. "Swa- Damn it!" I curse under my breath.

I jog after her, but as soon as I get outside, I know what she's doing. I run down the steps, looking everywhere. It's the hair I notice first, running through the small park area with the kids play area, which is now covered in leaves and twigs due to the autumn weather. "Swan!" I exclaim over all the traffic. She briefly pauses, looking over her shoulder at me.

She's off again, running through the park to 90th street. I follow her, jogging behind her. She knows I'm here. After a few minutes, she stops. We just walk beside each other, in silence. She has her backpack on and her jacket, not Ava's. It makes me wonder how far she was going, just skipping school or completely leaving. I'm still clutching my composition books for Geometry, with only a thin sweatshirt on. I make a mental note to slap myself later for not wearing warmer clothes. I look over at the fair-skinned girl but she looks lost in thought and it makes me wonder what it is about her. Why I go to all of these _extremes_ for her, why I would miss my class, no matter how much I hate it, for her? Knowing that I will get in trouble for this… _Why I would envision her as a princess from my land…_ I'm not stupid and I wouldn't do this for _anyone_ other than my brother. _But Liam would never do this either._

We keep walking in silence even as the sun begins setting and I can feel the cold in my bones. I want to go back to Michael and Marie… The bed they've provided… The warmth, but more than anything, I want to stay with Emma. I think they'll be worried about us… Goodness knows what they'll do. _If they try to send me back to that place, I'll disappear. I've survived by myself before… well with Liam but-_

"Are you cold?" Emma's voice causes me to freeze. I don't know why. "You keep shivering and you don't have a coat on." She points out. We start walking again, and I look out on the East River.

I nod. "That jacket can't be keeping you warm either, love." I mutter. She doesn't verbally respond but just nods, copying me. We start walking again, and I look out on the East River. "I know somewhere we can keep warm and get something to eat."

"I don't have any money," She comments.

I smirk, scoffing lightly. "Well I do, and I have no problem helping a damsel in distress."

" _'Damsel in distress?'_ Really?" Her voice is laced with sarcasm and humor. "I didn't know this was the 1800's south, where I'm a _fair maiden who needs a strong, handsome man to save me!_ " Her voice changes to a more softly spoken, higher-pitched voice, _like some of the princesses from my land_.

I turn to her, realizing that she probably doesn't really know what she just said. "So… you think I'm a strong, handsome man?" My teeth flash out in the smirk I can't help but have. "What else do you think about me, eh?"

She rolls her eyes. "That you think too much of yourself." She quickly quips back. I can feel my smile fade. I turn away, looking out at the river. _I know she's being sarcastic… perhaps._ "I didn't mean…" She sighs. "Where's the café?" She changes the subject.

I clear my throat quickly and explain that it's two blocks away. Our walk there is quiet, unlike the jovial few minutes we just had. I blame myself. _I shouldn't have teased her_. The streets have turned busy, a lot of commuters, the traffic has also increased. It's only within the hour of 4pm but I guess people want to go home, especially in this weather. The moderately cold breeze has turned into a harsh bitterly-cold wind, which would cause even well-trained sailors to be on alert. I notice she's closed herself off, maybe due to the cold or because of me. Either way, her arms are tightly crossed around her chest, her shoulders have become slightly hunched up and she's just focusing on the path in front of her… _I just can't help but think it's me._

The café is a quaint, rustic little shop, on the outside it looks like it hasn't been painted in decades, but inside, it's a warming place by just the colors and atmosphere alone. Walking into the hot café, my exposed skin on my face and hands begins to tingle as it readjusts to the heat. Various pictures hang on the wall, of maps from my time but of this world, to just pictures people painted, to small patchworks undoubtedly sown by the best seamstresses this land has to offer. The chairs and some tables are small, made of metal, with a few other tables wooden. They also have a few sofas with smaller tables, making the place seem a lot smaller than it probably is. The counter is a mix of wood and metal with stools, more comfy than any in my world. Walking over, I notice her scanning the place, taking notes quietly in that head of hers. The girl at the counter welcomes us and asks what we want. "They do the best pastry items I've ever had here but they also do various sandwiches and baguettes." I quietly say to Emma. "I'll have a coffee and a Danish." I respond to the cashier.

"And you?" She smiles to Emma who just looks at her, no readable expression on her face.

"Just hot chocolate, _with cinnamon_." She adds quickly.

I quickly pay while Emma wonders off. Looking over my shoulder, I see that she's chosen one of my favorite spot; a decent sided sofa, opposite a map of something called _The_ _New World_. It is like no other map I have seen, no other land. The seas are surrounded by forest and mountains, most of which appear unclimbable. Multiple rivers lead into the land, but few look big enough to sail into, even with a dinghy. It looks impossible, inhabitable and I _treasure_ it. One day Liam and I want to become captains, him in the Navy, me just to explore. This is what I want to find, maybe own. A new land that is untouched by man… The thought makes me smile.[CK(3]

Taking over out order, I put it down, placing hers in front of her, and mine on the other side. She's sat in the corner, her jacket off. She's just wearing a thin shirt underneath, _she must be freezing._ Sitting next to her on the couch, I speak first. "What is the cinnamon about?" She looks at me with a confused expression. "It's not usual."

She looks down into her lap, playing with her fingers. "When I was 10, I met this boy. He was older, even older than us now. He helped me to start discovering the type of person I _really_ am. He was the first person who gave me cocoa with cinnamon." She explains. "What about you? Why coffee?"

"Doesn't everyone in New York drink coffee?" I quip back.

"But you aren't from New York. Where are you from?"

I take a sip of the hot drink and as it smiles down my throat, I find it too hot. "Isn't this a conversation we've already had?"

"It's not a question you've answered," She points out matter-of-factly. "You just said I wouldn't believe you."

"The last person who I told, means twice a week I have to see that _therapeutist,_ who calls himself a doctor."

I watch her pick up the mug, turning it in her fingers. Slowly she looks up at me, a small mischievous smile on her face. "Let's play a game."

 _ **So, in honor of (in my opinion!) probably the best episode of season 7, I thought I would upload this chapter. I'm already writing the next chapter, where things finally heat up and trouble begins to brew.**_

 _ **I also have to note that the comment I received from**_ _ **Emilee Amethyst**_ _ **on my last chapter made my day! Thank you x**_


	7. Chapter 7 - The truth can't hurt us now

I listen to her explain the game, how to play and I'm intrigued. We get turns to ask each other 10 questions and we answer, truthfully and honestly. Seems simple enough, except I know what she's burning to ask.

"I'll start easy." She faces me, left knee resting on the sofa, the mug resting on the sofa between her left leg and right thigh. "What's your favorite food?" She beams at me, full grin, teasing me.

I can't help but chuckle. "I think it has to be pizza."

"What kind?" She questions.

"Pepperoni," I answer, both of us smiling. "Eight questions left."

She raises one eyebrow. "What? No! That was an extension of the firs-"

I shake my head, tutting. "Now-now Swan, cheating is my game." I tease. "You asked about my favorite food and then the specific type," I raise my hand, using my fingers to demonstrate two. She responds by scoffing at me, playfully. "My turn, love… What's your favorite drink?"

"Wow, what a… interesting, thoughtful question that no one has ever asked anyone else before?"

"Really? Okay, question 3," She pauses, thinking. I drink more of the coffee, wondering what she wants to ask next. "Who do you look up to and why? Two-part." She smiles, clearly proud of herself for pointing that out.

Emma's POV

I watch the corners of his lips curve upwards and his eyes soften. "Liam, my brother. He's one of the bravest, smartest and most honorable people I've met, even out of grown men. Liam is like no other, he teaches me how to act honorable and fair, how to gain respect and not expect it. Even with people we're told to respect because they are in a good position or because they are older than ourselves, he does not respect them until they do something worthwhile. He will not be rude but he will not just blindly follow them. And, despite everything in our childhood, he's always stayed positive, wanting a better life for us." He looks down, his face turning sorrowful. "I would do anything for him."

I feel for him. I've never had someone, that deserves that much dedication, or someone who has even loved me really. "Why did you come here but he didn't?" The words escape my lips before I realize. I mentally curse myself for not having a better filter. I watch his facial expression change from sorrowful to uncomfortable in a second. Fuck. "You don't have to answer that. Foster kids know not to ask about another's past." I say apologetically

He doesn't say anything. He just takes a sip of his coffee, something that doesn't seem too pleasurable. I look down into my cup, watching the cream slowly melt in the chocolate, neither of us saying a word. A part of me is glad that the game isn't continuing, especially now. I wouldn't want him asking about my past… I don't want anyone to know about it. But I'm also upset. Killian isn't the typical foster brother I've had. Usually they are either bullies or… or they want something. And they won't ask permission to take what they want, no matter what it is. He's… nice. He has his issues sure, but he isn't… He isn't like anyone I've ever met.

"It wasn't possible." His voice breaks my train of thought. I look up and his eyes are down, and glazed. Every few seconds, he blinks, clearly attempting to not let the tears fall – I know because I've done, too many times. "Liam and I live… lived, with some other boys our age and some men, on a ship. Um…" He pauses, clearly not sure how to continue. What does he mean he lived with men? What happened to him? I should tell him not to say anything but I don't. Apart of me wants to know more, know what's happened in his life but then a bigger part doesn't. I have a feeling that it isn't going to be anything good… "Me, Liam and another lad, we went to this island with the first mate because the captain hadn't come back in hours. The other lad and I ended up here, in Queens alone. I don't know what happened to Liam." He scoffs, sniffling. He quickly smiles, looking past me in the corner, trying to pretend its okay but his smile fails him. He's just hiding the pain. "Next question."

"I'm sorry." A whisper comes out of my mouth. "But he's okay, right? I'm sure he's trying to get back to you too." He just shrugs and plays with his mug. "We don't have to play Killian."

He smiles a little more truthfully. "Nonsense. It's my turn. How did you end up in New York?"

I shrug. My turn to not want to answer. "When I was a baby, I was adopted. They moved me from Boston to the Midwest. But I always wanted to be in a busy city, one that never sleeps. Thought 'why not the big apple?'" I answer as nonchalant as possible. "So I skipped town, and hitchhiked here."

"Hitchhiked? What does that mean?"

What? "You don't know? It's like when you go to a gas station or truck stop and ask for a ride to wherever."

"Oh." He responses.

My brow furrows. "What does that mean?"

He opens his mouth but closes it before saying anything. "I'm just… It doesn't seem very safe. Especially for a young lady, like yourself."

Wow. "Are you my knight in shining armor now?" I reply sarcastically.

"Well," He starts, with a smirk. Here comes the charm. "I did save you with hot cocoa with cinnamon."

I smile, looking down at my drink. "My hero." I comment dryly. "My turn?" He nods.

I bite my lip. "Why did you follow me?" I question. "Aren't you worried about Michael and Marie's reactions? And about graduating and all that?"

Our eyes lock again, like they did yesterday. I feel uncomfortable, like he's reading me but I'm reading him in the same way. I'm the first to break away, swallowing hard. There's a silence while he stares at me. "As I said, there's something about you."

'Something about me?' What does that even mean? I find myself slightly irritated by this response and by this general phrase he keeps using about me. There is nothing about me, I'm just like any other street kid. "That doesn't answer the question."

"I can't explain it, Swan." He sounds exasperated. "I've been trying to figure you out since the moment you arrived. You aren't like other lasses I've met. You're special…" His accent gets deeper as he tries to explain.

I scoff. Special about me? "I think you have me confused with someone else."

"I would never confuse you with anyone else." His remark catches me off guard. I look up and he's being genuine and sincere. "And to be honest, I wasn't thinking about Michael or Marie, and I'm still not. What's the worst they can do?-"

"Beat the shit out of you?" I interrupt.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Is that it?" His change in attitude makes me nervous. "My turn?" He changes the subject. "Why did you run?"

I'm still thrown by his attitude, so it takes me a moment to really answer, but I do honestly. He hasn't lied to me so I'm not going to start now. Why am I running? "I have my reasons. I always have my reasons, Killian." I explain that I was nervous and that I don't want to stay anywhere for too long. No attachments, no pain. "I've learnt that when you feel comfortable or even a tiny bit happy, you're either moved or something bad happens. Someone pulls the rug out from under my feet." He nods, clearly understanding what I mean. The Emma Swan trilogy of pain. I shake my head. Fuck it. I clench my jaw. After a while, I feel the mug start to get colder and he reminds me it's my turn. Should I ask the question I've been dying to ask? What's he going to come up with for me? Do I trust him not to ask me things I don't want to answer? His words come flooding back to me from 'No, you're afraid. Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself but trust me.' I exhale, loudly. I can hear myself screaming not to do this, not to continue, not to trust him. Yet, the words still come out. "Before, you said you were on an island and then you ended up in Queens… Where was the Island? It couldn't have been Manhattan, anyone would recognize it, from a miles away and Queens isn't really an island."

He stiffens, and moves his right foot, clearly uncomfortable. "Did anyone ever tell you, you should be a sheriff?" He says sarcastically.

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm, not that I don't like it. "You didn't answer my question." I quip back.

"I was driven to Queens from somewhere else and left."

What? "Why are you lying to me?" My voice lets on to how hurt I am by this.

He closes his eyes, breathing in deeply and releasing slowly. "I'm sorry. But you wouldn't believe me, even if I did." I responds, not missing a beat.

Now it's my turn to scoff. "You once told me to trust you, to reveal myself to you. Doesn't that go both ways?" I question.

His brow knits slightly. "You're right, love." He pauses, nervously playing with his cup. "Ask me again, tonight, and I'll tell you the truth."

"What if I don't stay?" I ask.

"Then you'll never know." He smiles but it's a sad smile.

Is he sad because I might leave? Why would he be sad because of that? I'm nothing special. Although he doesn't believe that. "Since you won't answer that question, I'll ask another. You've mentioned your brother, but what about your parents? Why aren't you with them?"

His eyebrows fur up, at the sudden change in our conversation. "My mother left shortly after I was born. I have no memories of her, nor do I know why she left. My father is a liar, a basted who sold his sons into a life of suffering." His jaw moves slightly and I can tell he's grinding his teeth. "I hope he's dead." A flash of anger mixed with hatred and pain comes out, not something I've seen before from him.

I look down. "My parents…" I feel an aggravating need to share back. Maybe due to my guilt of forcing so much out of him, I'm not sure. "They left me at the side of a road when I was only hours old. They didn't even care enough to drop me at a hospital or even a stupid café like this. They left me to the wolves. Literally." I scoff, smiling bitterly.

"Maybe they had a good reason?" I look up and see him looking at me. I can't make the look on his face.

"Did your father have a good reason?" My voice is cold. "I'm done with my questions." I take a sip of my now at best lukewarm cocoa.

He nods but no words are exchanged. He stares at me, his sea-blue eyes burning into me, into my soul. I'm the first to break eye contact, once again, uncomfortable with him reading me as if I'm a bestselling novel. I'm vaguely aware that someone is walking in, due to the cold breeze that comes from the door opening. He's looking at me again, reading me. We sit there for a long time in silence, while everyone around us seems loud, louder than before. People talking, a few people typing on their laptops, or on their cell phones. The barista making multiple coffees, as the 9 to 5 workers rush in for their last coffees of the day, _hopefully._

"Let's get the subway back home." He murmurs, clearly deep in thought.

I wish I could tell what he's thinking. "It's not my home."

His eyes move up, meeting mine. "It's not mine either… _Come on Emma." He stands, waiting for me._


	8. Chapter 8 - Home Sweet Home

**Killian's POV**

I refuse to admit it to Emma, but I'm nervous as I open the door to the apartment. _I'm nervous about Michael and Marie's reactions_. I don't know why, it's not like I've been hurt by them before and I've been in trouble with them before, but not because of running away. I look back at Emma. She's trying to be brave, not show that she's scared but I the look in her eyes gives away her true emotions, _fear_. It's something that I've seen in so many faces over the years, including my own, but with her… _with Emma, it hurts._ I turn back, ready to take it, the blame, anger, _everything._ After all the convincing I had to do, to even get her on the subway, then the eerily silence we walked back in, her uneasiness flowing through everyone who happened to be around us… I push the door open, but as I do, I feel her hand grab my arm, just above my elbow. My head spins around, as she shakes her head. She's terrified. In the pit of my stomach, I feel anger for whoever has turned her into this but I have to rein in my anger. I place my hand on top of hers. "It'll be okay, Swan." I try to convince her. She doesn't respond, but she's still scared. Taking the first step inside, I hear her gasp lightly, while I'm momentarily distracted by the warmth. _It feels so nice to feel the heat, to smell the scent of aftershave, with a mix of food in the air._ It's just _nice to feel and see something so familiar._ "Hello?" I call out quietly but my voice does not go unheard.

"Killian?" I hear a panicked voice call out. Before I finish closing the door, Marie comes running over, with both arms open, _hugging me._

 **Emma's POV**

I back myself away as I see Marie running over. She has her arms open like she's going to hug Killian but I've been tricked by that before… _that landed me in the hospital._ I freeze when I see her actually hugging him… _and it's like nothing I've ever seen a foster parent do to a foster kid._ She's showing genuine emotion… _fear, joy, happiness…_ "Killian, where were you? We were so worried!" She pulls him into another hug, as Michael appears from behind her, along with Ava and Jackson. I peek at Killian's face and he's uncomfortable, clearly doesn't know how to respond. He doesn't hug her back or respond. He's as frozen as I was a moment ago. Then she turns to me, but I don't hold eye contact with her for long, _no instead I turn away,_ mentally pleading with her to not be angry with me. Instead, she hugs me. It's not like the one she gave to Killian, instead it's softer and more careful… _sort of like when you'd hold a kitten…_ "I'm so glad you're okay." She whispers in my ear, before letting go.

Killian just looks at us, expressionless. "Jackson, Ava, rooms, now." Michael's voice reminds the three of us that he's still there standing, staring, fuming. Both of them quickly disappear, neither wanting to also be on his bad side. "Killian, Emma, sit down." He gestures to the couch, behind him. Both me and Killian look at Marie, who is looking at Michael before we look at each other. There's a look of uncertainty in his eyes, maybe fear too. I don't like it… We both walk over to the couch, sitting down timidly. Marie follows, whispering something to Michael but whatever it is, he doesn't seem to agree. "Killian," He begins. "You have lived in our house for some time now, you _know_ the rules." He stresses the last part. "What were you thinking? Do you know how it feels to get a call from work saying your _son_ has missed class and cannot be accounted for?" He exclaims, angrily. He continues, shouting at Killian, who just sits there and takes it but all I can think about is how he referred to Killian as his son. That's so different… _My last decent foster home made sure I knew I wasn't one of their children._ "And Emma," He sighs, clearly angry with me. He takes a deep breath before continuing with me. "Emma, I can appreciate how difficult it must be to have to move so often, and I can understand that you haven't had the easiest life, but you cannot just run away. You are a part of our family now, and we are here to look after you, to protect you." He's angry but it's like a worry-angry, not a normal angry. "But you cannot put yourself, and any of our _other_ children in danger like this."

"It wasn't her idea." Killian is almost silent but the quietness of the room makes everyone hear. "I didn't want to go to that _idiotic_ class!" His voice gradually gets louder. "You all want me to do th-this graduation thing, but I don't! It doesn't matter!" Marie tries to calm him down, but Killian just shakes her head.

"Enough!" Michael raises his voice for the first time in front of me. "Killian, we want the _best_ for you, we want you to be _brilliant!_ " He stresses, using hand gestures. "You have been a part of our family, like our son, for months and we care about your future. We have seen you, for who you really are, a young man with promise for so much!" I watch Marie comfort Michael by touching and rubbing his shoulder. RThe room goes silent. Killian sits down but he's in a staring contest with Michael.

 _Why are they being like this? Why are they being so… protective? We aren't their children._ "Killian," Marie starts. "We all know the type of young man you are, smart, caring, protective… We know you don't like being with the younger kids in that class but you have never done something like this before."

"If Emma stayed, we would still have this conversation." Killian lies. I feel bad because… _he's lying for me_ but I still don't speak up.

Both Marie and Michael look at each other. They have an unreadable look on their faces. I glance over at Killian, who is looking at the floor. I can tell that he's not really here right now… He's just in his head. "Okay. Killian, you are grounded. No going out after school, no TV, no music. You are to go to school and back here. Do you understand?" Killian just nods in response to Michael. "Emma, right now, the same goes for you. We had to contact both of your social workers and they'll be here in a little while for a talk." He swallows. "Rooms, now."

Nothing more is said. I grab my backpack and we both walk to our separate rooms in silence. I lean back against the door, effectively closing it and keeping me standing up. With my eyes closed, I can feel my heart pounding. _Stop being so scared!_ I repeat to myself, mentally. It isn't until I open my eyes that I see Ava, sitting at the white desk, with what looks like homework. She's looking at me, with the same disapproving, disappointed look on her face, that her parents had. She's the first to break contact and goes back to whatever she was doing. _Good_ , I think to myself. I don't need her criticism. I throw myself down on the bottom bunk bed. I didn't realize how tired I was, but now, my arms and legs all feel heavy. I yawn, loudly, looking out the window. It's quiet on this side of the apartment, all I see is the apartments across from our window. I watch the woman in her kitchen, cooking something. She looks happy as she bubbles around, wearing a dressing gown and her hair up. I smile slightly, at the hope that one day, that will be me… maybe I'll have a boyfriend, maybe a kid and I'll live in a brownstone or somewhere hot… or, or maybe I'll have kids and a husband… and we'll all live in a small town, with a bakery and a small grocery store, a diner and picket fences… _Yeah…_

 _I look down at the plate. I don't like this stuff. I look back up at Tommy. He puts a s'ghetti in his mouth but it makes a weird shape. I don't think it's tasty. The boy next to me, Jed, is eating it slowly too. He's a big boy and I don't like him. He's just mean. The other kids are eating too but they don't look like it's tasty. I look back down at the plate and pull one s'ghetti out. I put it to my nose and it smells yucky but I have to eat it. Miss Patty is watching. I put it in my mouth but my tongue doesn't like it either. I need water… I look over again at Tommy but he is looking down at his plate. I look over at Miss Patty and she's eating a burger and fries. I keep looking at the burger until it's all in her tummy. I quickly look at Tommy and he's still looking down, eating slowly. I choose now to put my hand up. I really need water!_

 _"_ _Miss Patty, can I, can I have some water?" My voice is tiny like Tommy._

 _She smiles at me but it's not a nice smile, it's a mean smile and I know I shouldn't have asked… I look away first and that's when she starts. I cover my ears because her shouting hurts them but it doesn't do much. Her voice isn't like mine or Tommy's, it's loud and scary. I don't like it. I close my eyes tightly, wishing I was like the girl from the Wizard of Oz, with magic shoes to take me away, to take me home. 'There's no place like home, there's no place like home', I keep saying in my head. But it doesn't make her go away._

 _Suddenly there is no sound. Everything is quiet. I open my eyes and Tommy is looking at me, with his eyes all big and sad. Jed's face is red and he's wobbling his knee, but he isn't looking at either of us. I look back over at Tommy who is looking at Jed and I keep looking until I see Tommy's eyes get real big. Then I fall, the chair is going with me but I don't know it until my head hits the floor. It feels like all the air has left my body and I can't move. I can hear Tommy screaming and Jed is staring at me. I want to cover my face and ears but I can't move. I can't move…_

"Emma?" My eyes open quickly on hearing my name. I sit up and glance around briefly and I see I'm in Ava's overly girly room. "Emma, take a few minutes to wake up, but we need you outside okay?" Marie smiles at me, sadly. I nod, still in a dream-like state and Marie leaves.

Ava's looking at me, in her mirror. She's taking off her makeup and looks like she's ready for bed. I keep watching her as she watches me. She goes back to taking off her makeup but then pauses. "Who is Tommy?" She asks while looking at me in the mirror. _What? How does she know about him?_ "You-you've mentioned him a lot when you sleep." She answers my unanswered question. She mumbles something about me not having to tell her if I don't want to but she wants to 'get to know me'.

I roll my eyes, swinging my legs to the side of the bed, preparing to stand. "He was my foster brother." I grab my backpack.

"Oh." She turns to look at me, looking slightly surprised. "Are you guys still in contact?"

I shake my head, opening the door. "He's dead." My voice is almost too calm as I walk out the door.

As I reach the living room, and as expected, I see Eric. "Hi there." He smiles at me. Marie and Michael are also there. They gesture me to sit down, so I choose the seat furthest away from everyone. "I was hoping to see you after school so we could talk to Detective Donaldson again." He stops, waiting for me to respond but I don't. "But, I hear you've had an interesting afternoon, with Killian." I don't even look at him. _Interesting afternoon… Really?_ "Emma, could you tell us what happened?" I don't respond again. They keep 'questioning' me about where I was, whose idea it was, why I went along but I don't answer. After a few questions, Eric looks at Michael and Marie, clearly irritated with me. "Okay, Emma, we have spoken to Killian and have taken what he has said into consideration and at this point, we need to discuss things, including your record," His mention of my record catches my attention and I look at him intensely. _Why does this thing keep following me?_ "Yes, that's right, we've found you and that you're meant to be in Minnesota with your foster mother. Why did you leave Emma?" I shrug and it's the first 'answer' I've given. "Do you want to go back?"

I shake my head, I can't go back, I won't go back. "No, she's crazy! I won't go back to her!" My eyes fill with tears as I fight to keep them back. I'm not upset because she's crazy. No, it's because the only person to care about me in the last 12 years is a lunatic.

I vaguely hear Michael and Marie talking before she comes over to hug me and I try to shrug out of her grasp, which she loosens but still sits next to me with her hand on my shoulder, somewhat comfortingly. "Okay, Emma, we aren't going to send you back to her or Minnesota." He continues telling me that by the time kids get to my age, he believes they should be informed and told as much as possible about what's going to happen and some other crap but I don't care. He continues to talk about my record… but at this point, I zone out. Everything I've done was just out of survival… _I just want to be free._ I may have stolen food and broken into a few places… and maybe stolen some money… _But I never hurt anyone… I'm not one of those street kids who steals from other street kids._ I close my eyes and wait for it. Wait for them to say I have to go.

"Emma," Marie begins. "Let's try again, okay? We're going to have to place strict boundaries in, but, if you want to, we would like to still foster you."

"Temporarily." Eric interrupts. "What do you think Emma?" I shrug, blinking to stop the tears. _It's better than the cold,_ I think to myself… Plus, Killian's here. I haven't figured out his deal yet and I want to. "Okay, well, how about tomorrow after school, I pick you up and we can talk more about it then? And we can go to the station and talk to Detective Donaldson." I don't respond. Michael mentions something about me going to get ready for bed, but there's food if I'm hungry. I stand up, feeling weak. I can't believe I just cried in front of these people. I breathe out loudly. _So stupid._

 **Killian's POV**

 _"_ _Emma, do you want to be placed in a group home instead? You'll be with girls your own age."_ Eric askes Emma, but I don't think she can even hear him. She looks so small there, with Marie and Michael on either side of her. I can only see her from the side, yet the tears in her eyes are so clear. Her mind is thinking about other things, things that she cannot say.

 _"_ _Emma, let's try again okay? We're going to have to place strict boundaries in, but if you want to, we would like to still foster you."_ Marie, always the perfect mother – caring, protective, warm and loving.

 _"_ _Temporarily."_ I momentarily get annoyed at Eric for adding that. But from what I've heard, it's common for children of this world to move around often. A part of me is wishing, hoping, even praying that Emma says yes. I want her to want to be here. She brings out something in me, something that makes me happy… I want her to stay but not if she's unhappy. But she doesn't answer, she just shrugs and I feel my heart stop. _She doesn't want to be here._ I breathe out silently and close my eyes. _She really doesn't want to be here. "Okay, well, how about tomorrow after school, I pick you up and we can talk more about it then? And we can go to the station and talk to Detective Donaldson."_ Eric adds. Why do I feel so crushed by this? I knew she didn't want to be here, in fact, she tried to run away last night… but I wanted her to be here. I hoped she would've changed her mind last night but… she hasn't. "Okay Emma, we have to talk to Eric for a little while so why don't you get ready for bed, and if you're hungry, there are leftovers in the refrigerator. _Fuck._ I stand up, and as silently as possible, I run back to my room. I quietly close the door but Jackson is there. Ready as ever to ask 101 questions.

I walk past him and sit on the bed, but he doesn't take his eyes off me, watching my every move. He's angry at me, I know. From the moment I came to live here, Jackson has always told me he wanted an older brother, the only problem is that he wants someone who is a role model. I'm not that person. He hasn't said a word to me since I came back, just watching me. Even when I was doing my homework. He reminds me of myself when I was a child… Always waiting for Liam to come home… When good Captains passing through our port only wanted one boy, they would pick Liam. Word had spread of him, being loyal, courageous and willing to do things other boys wouldn't, he wasn't a drunk, he never stole… _Barely had to be disciplined._ Of course, they wanted him. With me, they knew they would have a fight on their hands, even back then. If I didn't like something, I would say it, if I didn't want to do something, I wouldn't. I would steal from anyone I could. Liam would always defend me, explaining that I was young and needed the experience, but usually, it would end with me, waiting night after night for Liam to come home. Then when he would finally come home, I would be angry that he left me, even though he brought back food and money for us. _Liam…_ I shake my head, bringing myself back to the present, but also bringing a feeling of guilt. I turn to face him. "I'm sorry Jackson." I look him in the eye. "But I wasn't going to leave, lad. I just… I just wanted to get away from school."

He doesn't answer but instead looks down. He looks sad like he's about to cry. "I thought… I thought you weren't gonna come back." He shuffles his feet. "I know you aren't my _real_ brother and you have a brother, whose super cool and knows a bunch of stuff… But you're like my brother."

 _There's that feeling of guilt again._ I decide to sit next to him. "I do have an older brother, who I will do anything to go back to, but…" I pause, wanting to choose my words very carefully. "If I did have a little brother, even if we couldn't be together, I would never stop caring about him."

He looks up at me, uncertain. "Would you stop for a girl like her?" _A girl like her?_ "Emma's hot! And I bet she's good at kissing and stuff." He smiles, that cheeky, immature smile, however, his eyes let him down. They show the sadness.

"In a few years, you'll meet a girl your age and you'll think she's 'good at kissing and stuff.'" I mimic his words.

"So you think Emma's good at kissing?" His eyes light up like he's received a new toy or something.

I roll my eyes. "I've never kissed her Jackson. She's my foster sister." I recall all the rules I was told on the first day. _Rule 4, no romantic or sexual contact with a foster or adoptive sibling._ "And she's not my partner or… or someone I like, like that. But the point is, I'm sorry." He doesn't respond. "If I _did_ have a little brother and if he was like you that would be _super cool_." He hugs me tightly, and for the first time since I've been here, I feel happy… Happy like when Liam came home after being away and he would cook us a salt pork with potatoes. _Just real happiness…_

\- / -

 **Apologies for being so late with this chapter. Postgraduate student life is no joke! I'm in the mists of writing the next chapter, so hopefully, that will be out this month also.**

 **\- SWG**


	9. Chapter 9 - What Came Before

I look up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The nights are all off, but the orange glow from the outside lights is coming in through the blinds, leaving lines on the ceiling and walls. I listen to the clock, _tick, tick tick,_ with every second that goes by and Jackson, snoring loudly. Occasionally, I hear a car horn or the sound when they abruptly stop. When I first came here, I hated all the noise. I missed the sound of the waves crashing into the boat or the shore, depending on where I was… or when we were on land, the sound of the crickets and owls. Compared to this place, my world was silent at night. Or, at least it was Whitney… _Then the air was almost always filled with cries of the boys who were whipped… or worse._ But now, now I've been here for 3 months, I would hate the silence. I've come to hate the silence, the moments I'm left with my own memories, my own thoughts. The noise is a distraction, my writing is a distraction. _Hmm, I haven't actually written since Emma got here…_ Swan. What a mystery you are… I decide to get up out of bed, get some water or something. I glare at the clock, _2:18am._ Another night, no sleep I suppose. I peer at Jackson, who is in a deep sleep, completely unaware of me. _Good._ I sneak out of our shared room and walk towards the kitchen, but I'm stopped in my tracks when I see her, _Swan._

She turns to me, like she's been waiting for me. Neither of us say anything, and the silence is overwhelmingly loud. She's sitting in the dark, so I can't really see her but I see her hair, thanks to the orange light from the street. I turn abruptly and continue to the kitchen, getting the water. Neither of us saying anything. I sit on a chair opposite her, as she adjusts her position, ready to ask the question. But we still don't say a word. I begin to feel uneasy, about what I'm going to tell her. My heart say not to lie, but I know I have to. Everyone I have told, tells me I'm mad, and that's the reason I'm seeing that charlatan.

"So…" Emma speaks, causing me to look up. "I stayed. That was our deal."

I nod. "Aye, Swan."

"Are you going to live up to your end?" She asks, clearly reacting to my apprehension. I look away from her, not wanting to actually answer that question. "Is it that hard – to talk about where you're from?" She asks.

I look down at my hands, not knowing really what to say. "You won't believe me Emma." My voice is quiet, almost scared... _I almost don't recognize my voice._ She asks me why I won't tell her but I don't know what to say. _What can I say?_ "I heard what you said about your last fosterer." I pause, waiting for her to respond but she doesn't. "You said she was insane because she believed in magic. Do you truly believe that?"

"What?" She stiffens. "Why are asking me this?" She raises her voice, standing up. "Look, if you don't wanna to say, just don't! But don't be a creep and listen to my personal stuff to use it against me!"

"Swan, listen to me!" My voice is a loud whisper. "I…," I pause not knowing how to tell her. "Let me tell you a story." She rolls her eyes, dismissively, but I continue. "There was a lad, who was born in a tiny port town, called _Scartaglin_. He had an older brother named Liam, and they lived with their father and mother." In the light coming from the street, I see her, watching me intently. "When the lad was… small, his father used to leave for weeks on end, working on the ships. From the time the sun rose, the lad would wait by the dock, until the sun went down and his brother would take him home." I swallow hard and look down at the floor. I see Emma sit down out of my peripheral vision. "One winter night, when the lad was… small, the father had just left on a ship… And the mother left the little lad and his brother alone. There was no _food_ , no _money_. Everyone knew, in _Scartaglin._ But everyone lived like they did… _poor._ So no one helped, Swan." Our eyes meet once again, but it's too dark to see hers.

"Why didn't anyone call CPS or the cops?" She questions.

I shake my head, smirking. _But it's not a happy smirk._ "Where I'm from… those things don't exist. You just have kids and then once they are old enough, they work. Only children from well-off homes, like of bloody king and queen, diplomats or those born into money have good lives."

She tucks her right leg under her left. "You make it sound like you're from 1900 or something." She murmurs. _Close, Swan, close._

"When the father came back," I continue. "He was angry. He became… _different._ He still acted like the loving father he always had, but something about him was different. Both the lads felt it but never spoke of it." I breathe out loudly. "One day, when the boys were 5 and 7, he came back and he was scared. The fear in his eyes will never leave me." _Shit._ I stop, feeling like all the air has lost my body. I have never told anyone this, I haven't even spoken to Liam about this but now… This lass, someone I don't know… My thoughts are everywhere and nowhere. I don't know what to say. I look up when she turns on the lamp next to her, and it's as if she's drawing me back to her.

"You can stop." I can barely hear her voice.

I contemplate it but I did make a promise. "It isn't good form, love. I made you a promise, and I should keep it." She opens her mouth, but says nothing. "We never stayed anywhere for more than a few weeks after that." I look her in the eyes. "My last memory of my father was of the night he left. It was really cold… and there was a-a bad storm. The light, it went out and father came in." I pause, thinking back to that night, my fathers words repeating in my mind _'what kind of man are you going to be?'_ My young, ignorant self, thought I wanted to be like him… Thinking that was the type of man who was honorable and decent… _How foolish could I have been_? "That was the last time I saw him."

The room is filled with noise from the street, the cars and people out there. Meanwhile, neither of us say a word, nor do we look at each other. My words just hang in the air. I don't know how long this silence goes on but it feels like forever. I dare not look at her, and I feel myself unable to say anything else. I'm to exposed, she knows too much… The last person I told made me go to that charlatan doctor now I've told this girl…

"I was left on the side of the road as a newborn." Her voice has no emotion, almost like I asked her for the time. I'm momentarily in shock, unable to believe anyone could look at Emma and think to leave her… _I can't imagine anyone leaving her._ "Parents suck." She murmurs but this time, the hurt in her voice is clear. I nod in agreement. "So… _Scar-tag-lin_? What part of England is that?"

I sigh. _I don't know of this England that people assume I'm from!_ "The 'r' is silent. Sca-tag-lin." I sound it out, which earns me an eye roll. "And I'm not from this England."

"Then where are you from?" She questions. "Ireland?"

I shake my head. "I'm not from this world, Swan." She doesn't say anything but once again our eyes meet. "I came here through a portal, a magic bean. It was meant for my brother and I so we could escape that lif-"

"Stop!" She interrupts me. "Stop with all this magic bean, crap! Do you honestly expect me to believe that you are from another world and that you came here using a magic bean? _Are you crazy?_ " She scoffs. " _I_ must be crazy to listen to this!" She throws her hands in the air before standing up.

"Have I lied to you so far? Am I lying now?" I also stand up. "What reasons would I have?"

She looks at me, intensely. "Your crazy delusions may be true in your mind, but that doesn't mean they actually exist!"

"Come on Swan, that doesn't even make sense!" _She's different._ I tell myself. _She's different_ , there's something about her. "I knew you wouldn't believe me if I told you, I told you that as well. But you made me, so now I'm asking you to keep an open mind!"

She shakes her head. "Magic isn't a thing. Otherwise everyone would be happy and life would be a fairytale."

"Is anything that straight-forward? Even in your world?" I question, before a small sigh escapes my lips.

She looks away from me. "Magic is something people tell kids because they don't want them to know how crappy the world actually is, Killian. Except, I never got that speech because I was screwed over from day one."

"Life isn't exactly happiness and sunshine for me either, but that doesn't mean that I'm so closed-minded that I can't see wha-"

"I am not closed minded! I'm realistic, I live in the real world not a fantasy! Life isn't Jack and the beanstalk or whatever stupid book you got it from. I thought you were honest and real… I…" Before I say another word, she walks away.

Suddenly, I feel like I'm being pulled under water and I can't move. I'm stuck, frozen… _How could she not believe me?_

Sorry for the lateness. I've been very busy with uni etc. Hope you liked it!


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